Orpah
by Bard of Beruna
Summary: She turned her back on God- is there any hope? She lost everything- can she begin again? She is now old and weak- how will she go to Israel? And why does God want her after she failed Him?
1. Chapter 1

**AN:**

I told you I was going to write from Biblical history, so here goes!

* * *

_"And Naomi said unto her two daughters in law, Go, return each to her mother's house: the LORD deal kindly with you, as ye have dealt with the dead, and with me." (Ruth 1:8, KJV)_

* * *

Silence.

It was all she heard these days.

For here was a woman, all but forgotten by the dust of time. Here was a woman, who, having once known the joy of the Salvation of the LORD God of Israel, had rejected it- turned her back on all that she once knew to be true, for a life of ease in her own native Moab.

She thought she could serve Him and her own gods at the same time. Oh, how foolish she had been to believe such a lie! And oh, how that lie had proved her wrong time after time, until she finally gave up all thought of Him and chose to serve them only.

Now she lay here, abandoned by them and left with nothing else to turn to.

She thought she had so much- a new husband, a nice home, three sons, money, friends, everything she could want. But each of them had been plucked away, one by one, until she had less than what she had had when she turned away from Israel, for then she had two godly friends, and now- well, now, there was nothing.

How could she have been so foolish? Why did she leave Him? Why was she here, alone in the darkness of life, when she could have been in Israel, with Naomi and Ruth, living whatever life their God had granted them? But there was no hope now. She couldn't go back to Him- not after she had failed Him so. She couldn't ask Him to be her God- not when she had already proven she was not worthy of Him.

"Orpah."

Who was it? No-one called her by her given name these days. Even she had nearly forgotten it.

"Orpah."

There the voice was again. She opened her eyes (for she had fallen asleep in her ponderings the previous night), and blinked in the bright light. As she searched for its source, she cried, "Who are you?"

"That is of but little importance. What you must know is the LORD Who sent me. I am but a messenger- He is the God Who created the heavens and earth, and everything in them. And He is the One from Whom you have turned away. But He is a gracious God, and even now calls you to return to serve Him."

"Surely there must be some mistake," she replied (whether she said it aloud she did not know, for it seemed the angel heard even her thoughts), "for I have failed Him- denied Him- abandoned Him for other gods. Why would He want me, after what I have done?"

"Have you no faith? or have you forgotten so soon? He wants you, not because He needs you, but because you need Him. He knows your weakness, and through it will show His strength. He forgets your failure, not because He cannot remember it, but because you accepted His promise to become the ultimate Sacrifice and cover your sins with His own righteousness. He longs to take your failure, and turn it into victory- victory for you, through Him. Will you not heed His call, and return to Him even now?"

"Blessed be the name of the LORD God of Israel, for even when I turned from Him, He never forsook me. Yes, I will answer His call and run back into His arms, rejoicing. And what would He have me to do?"

"His will is that you journey to Bethlehem-judah, even to the house of your sister-in-law, Ruth, and that you remain there for the rest of your life as one of His chosen people of Israel."

"But I'm nearly seventy years old! Would it not be better to remain here in Moab? for if I were to go, I would surely fall along the way."

"Has God ever failed His people? Remember, Orpah, that the safest place you can be is in His will. Anywhere else, you are in the gravest of dangers- but in His will, you are safe even in the strongest of storms."

"Then I will go, though I do not know the way."

"Orpah."

"Yes?"

"Do you remember the pot of water you hanged over the fire last night?"

"I was going to cook in it. It should be boiling."

"Well then this shall be a sign for you- you will find when you arise, that though the pot is hot, the water inside will be solid as a stone with the cold, and when you do, you shall know that the LORD has spoken."

And when she moved to speak, she found that the angel was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Hello again!**

**I was originally going to make Orpah a oneshot, but as I left it, it seemed rather unfinished. So I've got an update, and you can expect at least one more.**

**Also thank y'all for your generous reviews. I hope you'll enjoy this second chapter, and learn and grow too.**

**Update: I thought I had proofread this chapter well, but as I read it, I found some spelling and grammar errors. I hope they haven't caused too much confusion, and I have fixed them. If any more questions arise, please feel free to leave a comment and I'll do my best to answer. **

* * *

Orpah's mind raced that night, meditating on the words of the angel. It was true, that nothing he had told her should have astonished her, for she knew or had known all that he had said. And yet...

She must have fallen asleep eventually, because she definitely awoke in the morning. It was late- even the third hour by the sun's position- so she lost no time in arising. Her first thought was to eat something, so she went immediately to the pot over the fire to prepare some food.

And although the pot was obviously hot, what filled it was not mere water, but ice.

Just like the messenger had said.

Now she remembered all that had been told her- that, and what she had committed to do.

There was a caravan in town going west, wasn't there?

But when she made inquiry at the market, she found that they had left at dawn. And another caravan wasn't expected for over a month.

Could she wait that long?

No. If she waited even until the next day, she could change her mind. Or her health might give her trouble. Or someone else might delay her indefinitely.

She knew from experience.

So then how was she to go? It was a fool's journey to go into the wilderness of the northwest alone. She had never heard of anyone who made it. Certainly not of old women nearly seventy years old who had never been more than ten miles out of town in over two decades. And she had heard reports of giants in those parts. Giants weren't always mean- she had known one when she was young- but they were dangerous when drunk, and she didn't want to be alone when she came across one, drunk or sober, friendly or not. So she kept searching the marketplace for someone who could go with her, at least until they could catch up with the caravan. Caravans were slow enough that it wouldn't be too long- two days' journey at most, less in favorable conditions. If they started tonight, that was. Otherwise, they could be gone much longer.

But after asking around all day, she had found no-one. Discouraged, she headed for home. She could not leave tonight, but she would pack supplies and as soon as morning came, she would leave, guide or no guide.

* * *

Shalakhia was restless. He had eaten a late supper, and now he didn't know what to do. So he went out to walk about the streets. The sun had gone down behind the hills in the west, sojourning on to whatever places lay beyond the great Sea. He had heard some names of those countries: Kittim, Tarshish, Lud, to name a few. The men of Tyre knew better what lay there, and he had learned what he knew from various of them who came to trade in Moab.

Israel, too, lay beyond those hills. It was the land of his birth, although he remembered less of it than he would have liked. When he was only seven years old, he and his father had left their family in Judah. It was supposed to be only a few months before they returned, but his father had been killed, leaving Shalakhia alone in a strange land. He had known no way to go back home, and although he now was free to travel and capable of the journey, something had always kept him back.

Although he was ashamed to admit it, it was his fear. He was afraid of the journey, and even if he made it, he feared his return might not be welcome news with his family in Ephrath. He had five older brothers and three sisters, and not one of them ever showed much liking for him. In their eyes, he had always been in the way, asking foolish questions, and too slow, incoherent, and clumsy to be of any help to them. They had no time for such people. And so they didn't give any to him.

His parents had been better- his father saw potential in him, and his mother loved him as much as any of his siblings. But Father had been killed, and his mother was as likely dead as not, for she must be sixty or more by now, and her health had been failing already when he last remembered her.

And yet, he longed for his homeland. He longed for his people, who served a God much mightier than any there might be in Moab. He longed for the Tabernacle in Shiloh, where his family had gone each year to worship the only God worth anything at all. And this God was not just worth something, but worth all. Indeed, He gave all worth. Nothing had any value without Him, but anything where He was, anything done for Him, or instituted by Him, was worth one's whole life.

But he hadn't given Him his whole life.

Because what held him back, even more than fear of his reception, was success. He had found success renting horses to townspeople and farmers who valued them for many reasons. But he couldn't take his horses with him. And even if he did, there would be no market for them. Cattle were the primary beasts used for labor, and donkeys for pack work and for riding. And he couldn't compete with them, not as an unknown startup that owned no land. It was impossible.

He knew in his head that he ought to go back, or if he stayed then to be a bold witness, a light to the Moabites in darkness. But it was unpopular to go against the flow, to serve a God unknown to them. So he had caved, choosing to burn incense to their gods. He excused himself, saying that it was acceptable because his heart was not in it. But in his heart he knew it was wrong, and he could see it driving him away from the one true God.

_Stop_ _it,_ Shalakhiah's mind said. He tried to push back against those thoughts. He didn't like them. They made him uncomfortable. But the more he tried, the less he succeeded. He couldn't fight. _Why can't you do this, _he asked. _You're always competent enough. Why can't you get rid of this?_ But he could find no answer. He must have fought for hours before he finally gave up. He was so convicted he couldn't go on any longer.

"Oh Lord," he cried out into the night, "forgive me! for I am undone in my own wickedness! I have abandoned You, tried to make life work without You. And I have thought I was doing well, though I was empty apart from You. I have strayed from You to chase after gods of wealth, of prestige, of acceptedness- those which were no gods at all have I served, and I left You though I knew You were the One I needed. O, God of Abraham, Who made this whole world, deliver me now from its ways, from its wealth, from its desires, from its bondage, and restore me that I may worship You forever, to be Your servant, and You my God. I can in my own strength do nothing, but grant me Your grace that I may do all for Your glory. I can offer nothing but myself, but take me, and change me back into Your image, that I may be a well pleasing sacrifice to You. In Your name, and according to Your glory and good pleasure, let it be done."

There was no blinding flash of light, no great wind, no sudden rush of energy. Indeed, what Shalakhia felt was almost nothing. It was stillness. It was the state of being clean. It was having a once more right relationship with God. It was... _peace._

And at that moment, he knew God had heard him. And forgiven him. It was so amazing he wanted to shout out for all the world to hear. He was at peace with God!

Across the great plain to his east, the first rays of dawn shone upon the ground. It was a new day. And he was ready for it.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN:**

After an inexcusably long break, I'm at it again. And back in Moab, things are really cooking...

Before I say anything else, I should give you this long-belated disclaimer:

**This story is speculative fiction based off a person whose name is recorded in the book of Ruth. All Scripture quotations are taken from the King James version of the Bible, which is under Crown Copyright in the UK. But the queen can't claim to own the Bible, and I insist that it is and has always been in the public domain. If any of the characters in this story bear any resemblance to real people, it could be because: a) we're all human, and so are the characters; b) these characters face no temptation but that which is common to man, which means that somebody out there is probably going through similar circumstances and or periods of conviction, or c) because it was meant to be so, although I did not write with specific people in mind. The author assumes no responsibility for anything good that may come as a result of this story, as to do so would be arrogance. He also prays that no evil come of it. If you recognize names, it could be because they were real historical people, or simply a faulty recognition. Also the things I'm writing about didn't happen, to my knowledge, except for those referred to in Scripture. Read at your own risk.**

* * *

Orpah arose with the sun that morning. And immediately there was the temptation to delay: not a crumb of food was left in her house save that she had packed in the evening. And she was hungry, dreadfully hungry. Why, oh why, did she buy no food at the marketplace yesterday?

But there was no question of delay, and she needed all the food she had packed for the journey. So after a short period of prayer, she set out for a new home.

It had been ages since she had been this far out of town: several years at least, and that most recent time was to the east. Here one came shortly upon another town, of roughly the same size as her own. Or that from which she came, for she had no intention of returning.

* * *

Shalakhia took his sledge hammer on one last swing.

_Crash!_

The last one was destroyed. Now for the altar.

It took several swings to satisfactorily destroy it, but his work was now done.

His idols were demolished.

And, unbeknownst to him, a small man in dark clothing ran to tell the whole town of the outrage.

Meanwhile, a knock came to his door.

"Come in," he answered. There was no point trying to hide the fragmented household gods.

And in stepped an old woman, of nearly seventy years. "I'd like to borrow a horse," she stated. "I will need it for two or three days. What is your price?"

Something was different about this woman. He could see it on her face, hear it in the words she spoke. And most telling was that she seemed to have no reaction to the mess on the floor, for any normal Moabitess would have screamed bloody murder at seeing the altar in pieces. "Why do you not tremble? Are you not enraged at what I have done?"

The woman paused to take in the scene. "I see you care no more for the gods of Moab than I do. I see you have put them off. I see you have abandoned those who were no gods, who could avail you nothing. If I trembled, sir, it would be with joy, seeing that I am not alone."

"Hallelujah! So then have you found the LORD God of Israel?"

After a pause, she replied, "It would be more accurate to say that He found me; that when I was running He pursued me; that when I turned my back on Him He gave all to find me."

"The LORD be praised! And with that in mind, what would be your purpose in borrowing a horse?"

"I must go to Israel. A caravan left town a couple days ago, and I was too late to catch up with them on foot, so I thought to borrow a horse. It would, of course, have to be one that can find its way home on its own, for I cannot guide it after I am with the caravan. Do you have such a horse?"

Shalakhia hesitated to give an answer. Was this woman for real? Did she seriously think she could make it to Israel? And did he have a horse that could be trusted to return home? Yes, there was one, a five year old mare named Huldah- an appropriate name for a horse that was almost constantly covered with mud despite his efforts to cure her habit of rolling in it. How she found mud in the near-arid land of Moab, he didn't know: perhaps she had found something he didn't know about. But Huldah was loyal, and would return home as soon as she was given the signal. She would do. She would have to, or this woman would find another trader. So he told her to follow him to the stables.

But when he opened his door, an angry crowd awaited.

* * *

Orpah was astonished at the size of the crowd outside the horse-man's door. It seemed as though not only all the inhabitants of this town were come out, but also those from several others in the area. And then she knew it was true, for she saw several of her neighbors in the crowd. And to think: two days ago she would have been in that same crowd, angry at the man for having destroyed his idols. How quickly one's entire worldview and perspective could change.

The man- she would have to get his name if this went on much longer- shouted something at her, and when she couldn't hear over the din outside, he motioned for her to go back into the building. He followed her, and quickly closed the door behind him. "Looks like I'll be seeing a bit of you for a while," he said. "I'm Shalakhia. What's your name?"

Finally, a name. _Shalakhia:: _sent by the LORD. It was a truly unique name. Could he live up to it? She hoped so. "I am called Orpah."

"Orpah:: a fawn. Now, we have work to do. Here- grab my hammer, will you? and we'll rig it to keep this door closed."

Orpah did as he said. "What next?"

"Grab your pack and follow me- no, wait here while I fetch some money. We'll need it on our journey."

Orpah was confused. "We?"

"I must go with you. I cannot stay here, for if I did I would certainly be killed. And I should not have been here this long in the first place."

Shalakhia went into his office to get his money. And as Orpah looked around the room, she knew this image would be etched on her mind for the rest of her life.


End file.
